


It never rains in LA

by iridescentglow



Category: Make It or Break It
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-28
Updated: 2010-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:25:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridescentglow/pseuds/iridescentglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Missing scene for #1.13, 'California Girls'.) "Damon," Emily said, "we made out in the meat locker at the Pizza Shack. We made out in the parking lot <i>behind</i> the Pizza Shack, until that hobo kept staring at us. We made out on the couch at my house, for like five minutes, until my mom came to check on us. This? Is already the best place we've ever made out."</p>
            </blockquote>





	It never rains in LA

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: missing you

"Oh my God," said Emily, in mock-astonishment. "The Starlight Lounge is in your bedroom, too." She turned to Damon with a wry smile. "Did you do this just for me?"

Damon frowned at her. "What?"

"There's a _hole_. In your ceiling. I can see the _sky_."

Leaving the drinks he'd been pouring, Damon walked the three meters from the kitchen(ette) to the bedroom, where Emily stood.

"There is not a hole," he said.

She pointed upward. "Hole."

"You know the record company gave me money for the plane ticket, right? Just the plane ticket. Not for anything else. This is the only place I could afford to rent." He craned his neck to look at the spot in the ceiling above the bed, where the plaster had cracked and given way to… _oh_. "Okay, maybe there is a little hole."

He reached up and poked at the hole, which caused another chunk of plaster to give way. Beside him, Emily guffawed. "Just think of it as ventilation," he said, withdrawing his hand quickly. "It never rains in LA, anyway."

While he'd been performing amateur demolition works on his apartment ceiling, Emily had drawn closer, nosing over his shoulder and pressing against his arm, so that he could feel the soft heave of her breasts as she breathed out.

"So," he said, moving his head slightly, so that their faces were aligned, "this is my place." He smiled sourly. "It's okay if you hate it. It's still early, we can go someplace else. Get something to eat…" As he spoke, Emily shook her head. "Or go for a walk… Although, the only place within walking distance of here is Walgreens. But, uh, I could buy you some Red Vines."

He was aware that her proximity, the intensity of her gaze, was making him a little nervous. _Damn._

Emily made a little _nuh_ sound in the back of her throat, and then leaned up to kiss him. It soon became apparent that it wasn't the type of chaste kiss that came as a precursor to a hug or a sappy comment or a serious bout of hand-holding. _Thank God_. He'd been in LA for three weeks – three weeks in which the most action he'd gotten was listening to his neighbour's porn through the paper-thin apartment walls.

He reached out and grasped Emily's shoulders, realigning their bodies, so that they could kiss more deeply. As his hands slid up over her back, tracing the ridges of her bra through her silky top, he had one last attack of conscience.

"You're sure you just want to stay here?" he said.

"Yes!" she said, exasperated. "Here is great. I love here."

Damon took a moment to feel obliquely pleased. "See? I knew it would grow on you. Hole and all."

"Damon," Emily said, "we made out in the meat locker at the Pizza Shack. We made out in the parking lot _behind_ the Pizza Shack, until that hobo kept staring at us. We made out on the couch at my house, for like five minutes, until my mom came to check on us. This? Is already the best place we've ever made out." She grinned. "It even has a bed."

"Oh, you noticed the bed, huh?"

"I noticed the bed."

"The bed is the best part," he said.

She yet out a yelp of surprise as he swept her up off her feet and then laid her down on the bed.

"That was a classy move," she said, unable to keep a straight face.

"I'm a classy guy," he said, climbing onto the bed and lying down beside her.

"Too classy to unzip me?" She wriggled her shoulders and made a face. "This dress is killing me."

"Funny," he said with a leer, "that dress has been killing me, too."

Emily rolled onto her side, so that she lay with her back to Damon. He placed a hand against her shoulder blade and gently tugged at the zipper, letting the black satin fall away from her skin. He traced a finger down her spine, making her shiver as the blunt edge of his fingernail met the first soft swell of her ass. _God, she was beautiful_.

They hadn't done much beyond kissing, and he wasn't sure how far he should push it. But they were on a _bed_, for Christ's sake. And it was _his_ bed, in _his_ apartment. Even if there was a hole in the ceiling, this was still a pretty amazing turn of events. He hesitated, and then pulled off his t-shirt, tossing it aside. Slowly, he reached out to unhook her bra.

He closed the gap between them on the bed, pressing against her back, which arched slightly in response to the skin-on-skin contact. He began to kiss her neck, and he wrapped his arms around her torso, pushing the stiff material of her bra away from her body and cupping her breasts with his hands.

He felt himself getting hard. Well, to be honest, he'd been getting hard from the moment he'd seen her, surrounded by all those photographers. But he'd made an effort to control himself. Now, apparently, his dick was sick of the charade and wanted to make its presence known.

Emily twisted in his arms, turning till she was facing him. She pressed her lips against his, and then moved her hips, angling her pelvis until—_oh god_, she was definitely grinding against him now. At this turn of events, his fingers seemed to develop lives of their own. The thumb and forefinger of his left hand pressed into the silky skin of Emily's areola, coaxing out the hard nub of her nipple. His other hand, meanwhile, tugged her dress down. His fingers slid down over her abdomen and found the elastic edge of her panties.

He stopped. He didn't remember taking a breath in a while, and now, all the air left his lungs in a rush.

"Why are you stopping?" she murmured.

"Because," he said. "Because we should probably. Go to dinner. Or. A walk. It's. I'll buy you some Red Vines," he finished lamely.

Emily frowned and pulled away from him, propping herself up on one elbow. It was probably supposed to be a defiant, _hey-what's-up-man_ pose, but she hadn't redressed and the upshot was that he just had a really, really great view of her tits.

"You know I won't break, right?" she said. "You know I'm not some weak little girly girl who'll fall to pieces if you, like, _touch_ me."

"Uh, trust me, I don't think that. In fact, I'm pretty sure there's some secret gymnastics move you could do, where you break my neck. And the police would have, like, _no_ idea how I was killed."

Emily gave him a reluctant smile. She leaned in and kissed sweetly him on the lips. Using her hands, she slowly began to explore the unfamiliar surfaces of his chest. She rubbed at patches of skin occasionally, as if she thought he were a chameleon whose second skin might appear underneath. When she reached the waistband of his jeans and thumbed open the button, he jumped away as if he'd been scalded.

"I don't have a condom," he said wildly, as she fell back into her frowning pose.

"You know," she said sardonically, "I hear there's a Walgreens nearby. You could stock up."

"Look, Emily—" he began.

"I wasn't suggesting we have sex," she cut in. "I just—" She sighed. "I _leave_ tomorrow. And you'll still be here. And I guess we'll talk and email and stuff. But I'll miss you. I've _been_ missing you. And I don't want to miss you even when you're right here." She made a face. "Ugh. I thought this would be easier. I thought it would just _happen_."

Her voice sank to a murmur, as if she were thinking out loud. "You know, you're really good at that whole bravado thing. Making me think you know it all, you have it all figured out."

_Busted_.

"I guess I don't," he mumbled. "Have any fucking clue what I'm doing."

Damon paused and waited for the moment, which felt heavy with annoying feelings and stupid revelations, to slowly lighten. He stared at a freckle just above Emily's collar bone, because he couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes. She _got_ him, he realized – and how improbable was that, when he spent most of his life trying not to give anything away?

Finally, he lifted his eyes till he met her gaze. "Emily," he said slowly, feeling like he was measuring out each word, "I want to kiss you. And touch you. And I want. I want to feel you come."

She shuddered in anticipation, accepting his embrace, his open-mouthed kiss and maybe even a little of his brutal honesty. She fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, and he slid a hand past the elastic of her underwear.

At that moment, Damon felt a juddering base line start up, followed by a breathless "oh, OH!" on the other side of the wall. Damon groaned into the hollow of Emily's shoulder.

She froze. "Is that—?"

"Yeah." His goddamn neighbour and his goddamn _loud_ porn habit.

Damon grimaced and moved to roll away, but before he could do so, Emily reached out to stop him. She guided his hand back to the wetness between her legs.

"You want to keep going?" asked Damon.

"I have to be back at the hotel by midnight or Payson's mom will freak," Emily said tersely. "After that, I won't see you again for God knows how long. So yeah, I want to keep going."

When Emily reached inside his boxers and grasped his cock, Damon realized he didn't care what was going on with his neighbour. The whole rest of the world could go to hell for all he cared. He just wanted to feel Emily's touch – to spend as much time _not missing her_ as possible.

Her breath was getting quick and scratchy in his ear as he hooked his fingers inside her. Her strokes on his cock had become haphazard, as he thrust into her hand. He was definitely. Getting.

Close.

He felt wetness splatter across his forehead, and in the moment of orgasm, it was far too confusing for him to understand what was happening.

"Uh, Damon?" said Emily. "I think it's raining."

*

They did end up taking a walk – in the rain – to Walgreens, where they bought a bucket for the leak from the hole in the ceiling. They even held hands as they walked, and they might have exchanged a sappy comment or two.

But when they hugged goodbye outside the hotel, she seemed more alive to his touch. He felt connected to her. And, as they hugged, he could close his eyes and remember how she looked when she came – that light in her eyes, that reverberating emotion. Not love, not yet, but the possibility of… one day, soon.


End file.
